Page 179 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

“I’m not shy. You just say reckless ass shit with zero warning.”

His grip tightens under my thighs as he carries me down the hallway. “And you get wet every time I say it.”

I choke on absolutely nothing. “Michael!”

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing through the hallway. His laugh is unfairly attractive.

“You should see how flustered you are,” he says.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

He says it with complete confidence. The possibility of me hating him clearly does not exist anywhere in Michael’s mind. He carries me the rest of the way down the hallway before pushing open the bedroom door. Then, without warning, he tosses me onto the bed. A surprised squeak escapes me, which only makes his grin widen.

“You’re an asshole,” I mutter, trying to glare at him while my pulse pounds.

He starts undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt. My eyes drop to his hands, following the slow movements of his fingers without permission from my brain whatsoever.

“Roll over,” he says.

Instead of answering right away, I stay exactly where I am, still facing him with my pulse pounding hard enough to make me dizzy. My fingers tighten in the comforter while my eyes flick down as his hands move to his belt.

“What?” I stammer.

“I said roll over.”

I hesitate for half a second longer.

Michael laughs under his breath. “That mouth gets real quiet when I start giving orders.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“I don’t think so. I plan on fucking you,” he says easily. “Now, roll over.”

I turn over, finally obeying him. Michael’s hand settles on the back of my thigh a second later.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

Why does that do something to me every time?

His hand moves up my dress until it settles at the zipper. His fingers brush my spine lightly before he slowly pulls it down. Goosebumps spread instantly across my skin while cool air brushes over my back. I twist slightly to look back at him, but Michael’s hand settles firmly against my lower back.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Face forward, Katie.”

My pulse pounds harder. I bite my lip hard enough to stop myself from making a sound. Behind me, I hear the soft thud of his belt hitting the floor.

Then his hands move over my thighs, pushing my dress higher before he leans in close enough for me to feel his breath against my shoulder. The slow way he takes his time with me feels almost worse. Every second stretches the tension tighter until I can barely think straight.

“Lift up for me.”

I do, and he smoothly pulls the dress the rest of the way off my body. The mattress shifts behind me as Michael moves closer. One hand smooths over my back before he reaches for the clasp of my bra, undoing it in one quick movement.

“Arms,” he commands.